


Best Laid Plans

by tempe_harding



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Honeymoon, Kid Fic, M/M, Sterek Haven Secret Santa, Vacationing in Seattle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2778188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempe_harding/pseuds/tempe_harding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is getting his honeymoon, okay? Fifteen years and four kids later, Stiles is finally going to get his honeymoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [innerlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerlight/gifts).



> This handwaves a bit (whale watching in Dec, smelling snow a la Lorelai Gilmore.) Title from “Best Laid Plans” by We The Living. Kid’s ages: Talia, 13; Mason, 10; Jack, 6; Olive, 3. I hope you like it! Happy Holidays!

Just getting everyone to the airport is a challenge.

Jack misplaces his stuffed wolf and _cannot_ leave home without it.  Talia has a wardrobe malfunction and has to be rushed to the mall to get a new winter coat.  Mason refuses to pack, sulking up in his room about missing two hockey practices _and_ a game.  And Olive, his darling baby Olive, is picking up on the frantic energy of the house and refusing to be put down, handicapping Stiles down to just one free arm.

Heaving a sigh, Stiles leans against the wall just outside of Mason’s room.  He holds Olive close, her little head resting under his chin (thumb in her mouth, no doubt), and thinks of Seattle.  Thinks of whale watching and the Space Needle, of the babysitter Lydia had personally vetted and a _whole evening alone with Derek_.

Deep breath.

Stiles raps his knuckles against the door.  “C’mon, Masse.  I know you’re disappointed, buddy, but you gotta pack.  Daddy’ll be home with Talia soon, and we need to be ready to go.”

The door creaks open.  “But Papa…” comes the whine, before there’s the gentle thud of a body against his, a forehead pressed against his sternum.

“I know, bud, I know,” Stiles murmurs, running his fingers through his son’s dark hair—Derek’s hair.  “But it’s only two practices and a game.  You’ve got the whole rest of the season to play.  And I bet your friends will be super jealous when you get your picture taken with a whale.”

Mason perks up a bit.  “Yeah…”

There’s the sound of little feet running up the stairs.  “I found ‘im, Papa!  I found Jazzy.  He was hidin’ unda my bed, silly wolfie…”

\--

Stiles and Derek didn’t get a honeymoon the first time around, see.  Derek was Beacon Hill’s newest deputy, with not a lot of time off.  Stiles was finishing up his masters in creative writing, and anyways a pack of fae had just rolled in, deciding that they wanted to claim the Nemeton, and then then was this forest monster, and there was never a good time to go.

But they planned one, okay?  They were going go to Reykjavik and see volcanos.  It was going to be _so awesome_.

And then two weeks before they were supposed to ship out, Cora shows up with a baby.  She’s not ready, she says, she can’t do it, but she wants to do the right thing, but the baby’s a werewolf so options are limited and—all it takes is Stiles holding the baby once.  Talia is theirs. 

So it’s not a good time, then, either.  And then it’s work, and publishing deadlines, and three more kids, and the flu and broken bones and busy busy busy, and it’s almost 14 years later and Stiles wants his honeymoon, damnit.

So, Seattle.

\--

When Derek gets back from the mall with Talia, they’re all mostly-packed and ready to go.  There’s a giant pile of bags waiting for Derek and his werewolf strength to load into the car, the boys are parked in front of the TV (Mason passive-aggressively wearing his San Jose Sharks jersey and Jack somehow again sans Jazzy the Wolf), and Olive is still clinging to Stiles, but they’re ready.

Derek takes a moment between trips two and three to catch his fingers in the hem of Stiles’ shirt and pull him in for a soft kiss.  He doesn’t say anything, but between his soft eyes and slight smile Stiles feels himself relax, smiling when Olive chirps “Me, Daddy!” and Derek ducks to kiss her forehead.

\--

 

The plane ride isn’t too bad, considering.  Talia and Jack sit together and watch the in-flight movie, Mason is glued to his video game next to Derek, and Olive actually sits in her seat by Stiles for like, a whole third of the flight.  Disembarking is another hassle, and so is getting into their rented car, but eventually they make it to the hotel.

They don’t have any plans for tonight—tomorrow is the big day of whale watching and The Evening—so Stiles and Derek take the kids down to the pool to tire the out after dinner in the hotel restaurant.

The next morning, they go whale watching.  Talia gets a bit seasick, but Mason gets his picture with a whale, and Stiles and Derek get to hold hands and take in the ocean.  A bit frozen after hours on the water in December, they get hot chocolate at the hotel.  Olive gets extra marshmallows on hers and Jack gives himself a chocolate moustache.  All the kids go to bed easily, and Stiles and Derek get to make-out on the couch in their suite uninterrupted.  It’s a good day.

Friday they spend exploring Seattle.  Going to the Space Needle, the Children’s Museum, a few shops downtown.  They have lunch at The Crumpet Shop.  Olive and Jack start to lag after that, so they troop back to their hotel.  They pile all the extra pillows and blankets on the floor and watch _Tangled_ , cuddled together in a puppy pile.

Eventually, though, Stiles and Derek untangle themselves to go shower, changing into suits and styling their hair.  They order room service for the kids while they wait for the babysitter.

It’s Date Night.

\--

Derek comes awake with a snort, instantly alert in the strange environment.  It takes a moment, but he recognizes the Seattle hotel suite.  He listens, picking up the sleep sounds of each of his children tucked away in bed, all present and accounted for.  Everything seems fine.  So why then…

The other side of the bed is cold.

Derek focuses again, and he can hear Stiles’s heartbeat.  He’s close.

He’s on the balcony off the main room of the suite.  The sliding glass door is open a crack, hinting at the cold burst of air that hits Derek when he pulls the door open all the way.  Stiles is standing up against the railing, barefoot but wearing one of Derek’s old BHPD sweatshirts.  Derek only hesitates for a moment before walking up behind him and wrapping his arms around his husband.  “What are you doing out here, Stiles?”

“Can’t you smell it, Derek?  It’s gonna snow.”

Derek casts his eyes up at the sky.  There aren’t any stars out—too much light pollution from the city—but there aren’t any big clouds that would signal snow.  The moon is a thin sliver bright in the sky.  But then again, if there’s something supernatural about Stiles, besides his affinity for mountain ash, it’s his ability to smell when it’s about to snow.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”  Stiles leans back into Derek’s embrace, but is otherwise still and silent.  He’s been quiet all night, since Derek caved to the pleading eyes of their children and brought them along to dinner at the Space Needle.  Here, now, Derek can see where Stiles is probably disappointed their date didn’t go as planned.

Derek breathes in his husband’s scent.  “I’m sorry.”

Stiles’ hand comes to hold his, wrapped around his middle.  “I know.  I’m sorry too.  I love our kids, and that we get to spend this adventure with them… I just wanted one special night with you, like we used to.”

Derek holds Stiles tighter.  “Let’s do it, then.  When we get back to Beacon Hills, we’ll go on a date.  And we’ll make time for each other, more than before.  I love you, Stiles.  I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“Sounds like a plan.”  Derek can’t tell, but it sounds like Stiles is smiling.

“Good.”

They stand there, wrapped up in each other for a few more minutes.  Then, Derek feels it—a pinprick of iciness caressing his neck.  He stiffens, they both look up and—it’s snowing.

Stiles lets out a quiet whoop, turning around in Derek’s embrace for a hug.  “It’s snowing!  I knew it.”

Derek holds him close, pressed cheek to cheek, breathing in his scent.  “Yeah, you did."

\--


End file.
